


Lullaby

by orphan_account



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Identity Issues, Minor Character Death, Natasha Feels, Natasha-centric, POV Natasha Romanov, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Red Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4749974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can’t you imagine Black Widow hauntingly singing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oshON1NsjPY">this</a> to a dying comrade (maybe a fellow victim of the red room?) as Hawkeye realises there is more to the woman before him than just a spy?”</p>
<p>Or, the time when Clint first met Natasha made a different call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: “Can’t you imagine Black Widow hauntingly singing [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oshON1NsjPY) to a dying comrade (maybe a fellow victim of the red room?) as Hawkeye realises there is more to the woman before him than just a spy?” which can be found near the bottom [here.](http://moviepilot.com/posts/2015/09/03/marvel-s-missing-movie-s-3269251?lt_source=external,manual,manual,manual)
> 
> This is my first time writing any of these characters, so if you have any comments or (hopefully constructive) criticism, feel free to let me know in the comments!
> 
> (Also, there's, like, one line of Russian near the end and the translation will pop up if you hover your mouse over it. (Also also I used google translate so please blame that if something's wrong with it.))

Natalia’s childhood had moulded her into the perfect assassin. She knew how to follow orders down to the minute details and she knew how to change her plans on the fly in order to carry out those orders by any means necessary. She knew how to use other people to advance her own agenda and she knew how to display emotion in a way to manipulate those around her. That’s all it had ever been before -- something to get her what she needed, something that didn’t truly affect her.

Now, standing there surrounded by the bodies of the final orchestrators of the Red Room, and looking at the dying visage of a fellow Room operative, her emotions were overwhelming her in a way she had never thought possible. It had just been a mission for her; her only goal to dismantle the Red Room and make sure there was no possibility of its return. She had thought that tonight would come with great victory, but had never imagined the cost it might bring with it.

She and Valeriya had been as close as anyone could be while being a part of the program; they had survived together. Of course, they had been pitted against each other during training, and had fought hard and dirty, but they had both made it. That created at least some sense of camaraderie, even if it was never acknowledged.

Or maybe it was just her; maybe she was the only one to have felt camaraderie with those around her. Maybe there had always been something defective in Natalia by the Red Room’s terms, and it was that something that had led her to where she was now. She had taken out the Red Room and everything associated with it, but she had been too late to save Valeriya. By the time she had gotten there, Valeriya had been on the ground and someone was poised to take the final blow. She hadn’t even known Valeriya was still alive, and now they were about to kill her. Natalia hadn’t given them that chance and before anyone could do anything about it, they were all dead.

Faced with just the emotions she was incapable of fully comprehending and a dying Valeriya, she did the first thing that came to mind. Natalia made her way over to her comrade and caught her eye before sitting and arranging her into her lap, regardless of the blood steadily coming from her wounds. She wrapped her arms around Valeriya, almost hugging her, and began rocking them both back and forth as she sang her a [lullaby.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oshON1NsjPY)

She could feel tears running down her cheeks and could hear the slight waver in her voice that shouldn’t have been there. That kind of weakness should not have ever been shown. She kept her eyes locked on Valeriya’s through the entire song and near the end, as she could tell Valeriya was fading with finality, she felt a hand come up to her cheek and a thumb wipe the tears away from her left eye. Valeriya’s eyes closed then, her hand falling back to her torso. Natalia kept rocking and finished the lullaby to the end. 

She then stilled and stared, allowing herself thirty more seconds before moving and gently settling Valeriya’s body to the ground. Natalia refused to acknowledge the tears left on her cheeks. This had been sloppy, to have stayed in a dark alley surrounded by the dead and dying when all her training was to get out quick and quietly. 

She looked one last time at Valeriya and decided that she had done the right thing.

With that, she left swiftly, discarding her now-bloody clothes, and ignored how her stomach gave an unfamiliar turn at the sight of the blood and the memory of where and who it had come from. She made her way back to her safe house and would attribute not remembering most of the trip to her ingrained skills. When she arrived, she did a compulsory sweep of security measures before very uncharacteristically collapsing on the couch. She sat there staring into the distance, focused on nothing, for... she didn’t know how long. 

Nothing was right. She had never felt like this before; she had rarely ever even felt true emotion to any extent in the past. Now, she felt blank and overwhelmed at the same time. For the first time, she felt like she was not in perfect control of herself and her environment -- not ready to make contingency plans at the drop of a hat, not prepared with as many different exit plans possible, and some that people would say were impossible, not viewing the world with ultra-trained calculating eyes. 

Tonight was supposed to have been the end of it all, technically _had_ been the end, but instead of immediately carrying out her plans and disappearing to live whatever life she wanted, Natalia was sitting there wrestling with her emotions. She had never thought to figure any kind of emotional fallout into her plans. Now she inexplicably didn’t know what to do. She had lived her life as Natalia Romanova, the Black Widow, before she had grown tired of being the perfect spy. Then she had spent her time on the run as the one who would take out the Red Room. But now, who was she? 

She was startled out of her thoughts to a happening that should have been impossible and would have been any other time than this -- someone had snuck up on her. She jerked her head up to see the man with a bow, the man she’d seen in glimpses and assassination attempts during her vendetta but had always been able to evade. He was with SHIELD, and he was here to kill her. She deserved it for letting him get the drop on her, and most of all, she found herself not caring that she was going to die. It was over, and she didn’t know what else to do with herself.

She met his eyes and didn't move from her position on the couch. “I know what you are here for, and I will not fight you.” She noted that there was no surprise in the man’s face at her words, and yet it was not the cold or professionally blank expression she would have expected; she would almost say it had a soft way about it. That was twice he had surprised her in such a short amount of time, and had she a future, she would likely be curious to explore this man further. 

She stared at him waiting for an end that never came.

“I think I have something different in mind than what you’re expecting,” she instead got in reply. The man seemed oddly relaxed for someone in the presence of the Black Widow. She knew the purposeful reputation she had.

Instantly wary, she said, “I know the orders you’ve come here with and I know they end with you going back to SHIELD with a higher body count.” In fact, he never should have come this close. An organization like SHIELD would have been smart enough to know their own limits, and in a close combat situation like would arise from this confrontation, no one would win against the Black Widow. What did this guy think he was doing? For that matter, why was he alone? Did he think he would win the respect of his superiors and peers alike when he told them the story of how he had taken down the Black Widow single handedly? 

The man shrugged like he had not a care in the world, like orders from above were something to be dismissed. “Maybe,” he said simply, moving to sit in the armchair across from her and setting his bow down on the coffee table between them, “but I’ve decided to recruit you. They’ll get over it.”

With her emotions running so close to the surface, it was hard not to openly gape at the man. She wanted to smack him upside the head and tell him he was being an idiot. Instead she glared at him and said nothing. He looked unperturbed.

“SHIELD would be lucky to have such a skilled operative in their ranks, and you don’t really seem to have any previous engagements so I figure it’s a perfect match.” He almost sounded excited at the prospect and definitely looked pleased with himself.

She thought about it for a moment and realized that maybe this could be who she was. Maybe she could be a new person in a new life that helped people. Was it possible? Was this actually something in the cards for her? “Your organization sent you to kill me. It doesn’t seem that they’d be accepting of your decision.”

“Well, like I said, they’ll get over it. Not without punishing me, of course, but I know my handler would ultimately trust my decision and would fight for you. Everyone deserves a second chance, after all.” Everything was said so flippantly, like punishment from his superiors was nothing to worry about. Most importantly, though, was how serious he was about being willing to take it, for her, and how much emphasis he put into his final statement. Surely he didn’t know everything she had done in her life, or else he wouldn’t be so sure in his convictions.

Instead of giving in to her whirling thoughts, she focused on something else. “You’ve tried to kill me before, why is now any different?”

He gave her a searching look, like he saw right through her, and left his answer frustratingly vague, “My perspective changed.” 

(It’s years into their partnership before Clint reveals that he had watched her from above in the alley and that he had realized then that there was more to her than anyone or any file on her could ever know or say. He told her how he had been recruited by Coulson and given a second chance, and how he had seen the way she’d been ready to give up, so very reminiscent of Clint before he was brought to SHIELD and given a better purpose in life.)

“I could just kill you now and be on my way,” she replied, knowing full well she wouldn’t and was just being obstinate. The man sitting across from her was intriguing and if nothing else, she could at least look forward to unraveling his secrets.

The man waved her off, like this was no concern to him. He seemed to already have an annoying grasp on how to read her. “You won’t.” 

She didn’t have to take time to consider his offer; she already knew what she was going to say, and she knew that he knew as well. She could really turn her life around and do _good_ , and after all the bad she had done… Well, maybe she could use a second chance to become the person she wanted to be.

“Great!” the man said, grinning, as if he’d heard her thoughts. He jumped up and grabbed his bow, folding it down and putting it in its spot on his back, “So we can be on our way now, or do you have any things you need to get?”

She stood up at a more sedate pace and shook her head. “I’m ready.”

The man nodded and led her out of the building where her safe house was located, exposing his back to her; either SHIELD didn’t have very high requirements for the intelligence of their recruits or he really did trust her to some level. From what she’d seen, it was a mixture of both with him. 

The man led the way through the dark streets in silence before eventually breaking it just to say, “Oh, I’m Clint, by the way. I totally didn’t introduce myself.” He looked over at her and grinned in a way that was probably supposed to be charming but mostly made him look like a confused puppy.

In a much better headspace than she had been earlier that night, she had been cataloguing their surroundings and not paying much attention to the man before he had said that. After he did, she turned to give him an appraising look and nodded, but made no move to say anything. She realized then that she would be expected at some point to introduce herself, or people would just assume her name and she would need to correct them. She had many aliases, of course, but all were soiled by the acts she had committed as each of those people. People would likely assume her name to still be Natalia, but she did not want to be her anymore.

She was pulled from her musings as Clint stopped and gestured to the hotel in front of them. “Well, this is it,” he said a little lamely. “We’re set up in adjoining rooms on the third floor. I’m not really sure how this’s gonna go, but I promise you Coulson, my handler, will at least trust me enough to listen, and you won’t be harmed.”

She could only nod and follow Clint into the lobby. It was obvious he believed every word he said, but she was in doubt how much of it would be true. As willingly as she had come, her instincts were still screaming things like ‘trap’ and ‘run’. 

The lobby was dark, with only half the lights left on at the late hour, and only a single bored looking man attended the desk. Clint led her through and into the elevator with assuredness. When they got to the third floor, she again followed Clint as he led the way to one of the doors in the hallway and knocked in a specific pattern. 

Two long, three short, and two more long knocks later the door was opened by an angry but otherwise unremarkable looking man who was already speaking before he’d fully opened the door, “Barton, you’d better have a damn good reason for going off the grid or- ” He stopped when his eyes landed on her and his previously angry countenance immediately changed to blank and forgettable. The tension he held himself with, however, was incredibly obvious as he tried to figure the situation out.

Clint seemed purposefully oblivious to the tension. “Hey bossman! Sorry I’m late, but I found this little one wandering around all alone,” his tone of voice suggested she was a sad little puppy he’d found in the trash, “Can we keep her?” he continued with in an upbeat, hopeful tone, like a child would use with his parents.

At his words, she glared at Clint and this time gave in to the urge to slap him, but stuck to the shoulder for now.“Вы просто попробуйте, идиот,” she muttered darkly. She found herself constantly annoyed yet amused despite herself at Clint’s antics.

“Ow! Foul. Unnecessary roughness. Penalty.” Clint kept spouting sports related calls and rubbing his left shoulder though she had not hit him nearly as hard as she could have.

Throughout their entire exchange, Coulson had been appraising her and it was only then that she realized that her position slightly behind Clint made it so she was actually hiding behind him like the lost puppy he claimed she was. She straightened her shoulders but made no move to change their positions, as that would have been overly obvious. They stayed like that for a few more moments, staring each other down across the threshold of the hotel door, before Coulson stepped aside and gestured for her and Clint to enter.

“Well, it seems we have some things to discuss that aren’t suitable for a hotel hallway.” He seemed to be resigned to Clint’s decision, competent enough to know to handle it with grace instead of trying to fight it. She decided she liked Coulson.

She stepped inside the room, instincts still in the back of her mind telling her how likely it was to be a trap, and noted every personnel and possible exit within seconds. The few other agents in the room -- three, two females and one male, all seemingly tech people -- openly stared at her before Coulson had them leave the room.

“Now, Miss Romanova- ”

She cut him off before he could get any farther. She was no longer that person. “Romanov,” she said, because it wouldn’t do to forget where she came from. “My name is Natasha Romanov, Agent Coulson, and I am here to become an agent of SHIELD.” She was there to finally do good, to make up for all the things she’d committed in the past. She knew who she was now.

Coulson seemed to understand exactly what had just gone on in her head, what she was not saying. “Well then, Miss Romanoff, welcome to SHIELD.”

Clint just stood in the back corner of the room grinning.

 

(“Don’t think this means you’re not in trouble, Barton. You may think you’ve been in trouble before, but wait until you see how much paperwork you get to fill out after this.” Clint’s grin dulled into a grimace. Coulson’s gaze had never left Natasha’s and yet he seemed to know the effect his words had had on the archer. He smiled at her and Natasha felt her lips quirk in return.)

**Author's Note:**

> Вы просто попробуйте, идиот. = You just try it, idiot.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


End file.
